


Everything Was Blue

by orphan_account



Category: Connor Franta - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, Youtubers, troye sivan - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Anal Sex, Colors, Depression, Drugs, Explicit Sexual Content, Eye Color, Fluff and Angst, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Self-Destruction, Smoking, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-04-18 11:03:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4703660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His whole world is gray. Until he meets the boy that brings in the blue. Only problem is, they both know nothing but self-destruction and running from their feelings. How do you find love when you don't want to?<br/>A soulmate AU where Troye and Connor find each other without looking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gray World

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](http://alecdoesnotmakepie.tumblr.com/post/122116652798/groanlester-au-where-you-have-a-stripe-of-your) Tumblr post of soulmate AUs. Also inspired by Colors by Halsey.

**Connor**

I sit on a gray rooftop, looking out at a skyline of equally dull rooftops, all surrounded by a gray sky. It could be blue, but this is New York, so it’s very likely as gray as my eyes see it.

But how should I know, since I can’t see blue. See, in this lovely fucked up world I live in, you can’t see the color of your soulmates eyes until you meet them. So there’s some poor little fuck out there who sees gray grass in Central Park.

Like it matters to me. Love is bullshit. I’ve always believed love is bullshit. I see people meeting their soulmates, then getting married to some other loser the next day and supposed soulmates getting divorced constantly. What’s the point? I’ll live in gray for the rest of my fucking life if it means I don’t have to face that shit.

I take a drag of my cigarette and blow gray smoke against a gray sky, then run my fingers through my gray hair.

Everything is gray. My whole world is gray. I recently started dying my hair a silver-ish gray to match the whole damn city and my apartment with the blue-painted walls and my wardrobe of either lots of gray and black or a shit ton of blue and black.

Some people spent their whole life looking for that person to bring the color into their life, to make everything feel vibrant and come alive again. I was satisfied being gray.

I put out the cigarette butt in my hand on the cement roof and stand to my feet with a sigh, then make my way inside to my apartment.

Once I’m inside, I walk over to my closet and start digging through my dull clothing, trying to find something decent looking to wear. It was my first day at a new job, doing graphic design for an online magazine. Somehow, they decided to hire me, despite my lacking the ability to see one of the most widespread and popular colors on the planet. The guy who interviewed me told me their aesthetic is mainly black and white.

I finally land on a cream-colored sweater and black jeans, throwing them on quickly then stepping into the bathroom to mess with my hair.

I manage to style it, making it look still slightly messy but presentable, then leave the bathroom and go back to the bedroom. I slip on a pair of simple black shoes, grab my satchel filled with everything I think might need at work, and head out of the apartment, locking the door behind me.

I leave the front door of my apartment building not long after and am once again greeted by a sad, gray city.

I start to walk and mix into the mess of people walking way too fast and looking way too miserable. I pull my pack of cigarettes from my pocket and stick one between my teeth, then retrieve my lighter. I light it up and take a drag, keeping my walking pace fast and steady to avoid getting trampled by other pedestrians.

I really couldn’t tell you why I smoke so much and so constantly. I started at some point in high school and could just never quit. At this point in my life, it just adds another shade of gray to my gray world.

My walk continues and I keep taking drags and blowing smoke into the crowds of people, letting my thoughts wander to nothing in particular.

Then, out of nowhere, something interrupts my pace and I find myself crashing into a hard road block that I didn’t notice while I was staring at the sidewalk under my feet.

I stop and look up to see what (or more accurately who) I ran into and my eyes are greeted by a small, nervous-looking face, pink lips stammering out words I couldn’t understand and eyes downcast.

“Hey,” I say as softly as I can manage with my usually gruff voice. “That was my fault dude, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

I see him let out a breath and it turns to a small gray cloud in the cold air. He runs a hand through his light brown curls and finally looks up at me with a small smile.

“I wasn’t looking either,” he says, the embarrassment clear in his expression. “Sorry. I’m new to the city and I’m still finding my way around.”

The first thing I notice is his voice, which makes it very clear that he isn’t from the city. It lilts softly with an accent, Australian would be my best guess, and is definitely nice to listen to.

But the second thing I notice is a lot more interesting to me. Because when we make eye contact, I find myself staring into the best eyes I’ve ever looked at, big and bright.

And they’re sparkling blue.


	2. Blue Meets Gray

**Troye**

I look up from the ground and finally manage to form a coherent sentence to the man standing in front of me. However, after that sentence escapes my lips, neither of us have words to say anymore.

We’re staring at each other’s eyes.

His are a perfect, almost crystal-like green, like what I’d always imagined the deepest parts of the ocean looked like. The color that had always been gray to me.

Until now.

I don’t need this. I don’t want this. I didn’t come all the way from Australia to New York just to run into a beautiful, green eyed boy my second day in the city who apparently is my fucking soulmate.

After a few minutes of staring silently at our newly discovered colors, the stranger breaks our silence.

“I’m Connor,” Connor says, sticking his right hand out to me.

I grab it with my left hand and shake quickly and curtly, then pull my hand away and stuff it back into my jacket pocket.

“Troye,” I say, trying to sound casual.

Connor forces what seems to be an attempt at a smile onto his face and takes another drag from his cigarette. I try to resist wrinkling my nose.

I hate everything about cigarettes. The smell, the smoke, the feeling they leave in my lungs. Of course my soulmate smokes. Fucking cosmic joke, this whole love shit.

Me, I prefer to relax through prescription pills. The ones that my doctor gives me never get filled. The ones I take, I buy in bulk on the street. The high works better.

“Well, I have a job to get to,” Connor says, obviously feeling awkward. “First day, probably shouldn’t show up late.”

I nod as he starts to walk away.

Then when we’ve begun to walk our separate ways, I feel a hand grab my wrist gently and I turn around and come in contact with perfect green once again.

“Look, I’m not sure I even agree with all this soulmate bullshit, but you’re really cute, so would you maybe wanna get coffee sometime?” The whole sentence comes out a blur, with barely a pause between the words, and I find myself chuckling lightly at his flustered behavior.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” I say, handing my phone to him to put him number in.

He does, then hands it back to me. I then quickly shoot a text to the number, simply saying “Troye” and smile up at him.

“So, Troye with an ‘e’ huh?” he asks.

I nod slowly. “And Connor with an ‘o’.”

He smiles a half smile at me and blows more smoke in my face.

“I really have to get to work,” he says again.

“Alright. See you later, Connor with an ‘o’.”

“Goodbye, Troye with an ‘e’.”

With that, we both turn and walk off different directions.

 

**Connor**

I spend my whole life thinking about shitty love is and how stupid the whole soulmate thing is, and then I meet mine and turn into an idiot.

There’s no way Troye was going out with me. No way. I’m sure he just gave me his number out of pity. Or maybe he still has hope in the soulmate shit. Either way, we are never going to be anything.

I continue walking to work, lighting up another cigarette when my first is gone and try to think about anything but Troye and his goddamn perfect, hypnotizing blue eyes.

When my first day of work goes surprisingly well and I’m walking out of the office a half hour earlier than I was supposed to get off, I decide to test my seeming stroke of luck and dial Troye’s number as my feet hit the sidewalk.

After a couple rings, I hear a beautiful Australian voice ringing through the speaker, saying “hello?”

“Hey Troye, it’s Connor. You busy?”

There was a small pause, then I heard him say, “No, not really.”

I shake my head, ignoring what seems to be breathlessness in his voice, and reply, “Wanna take me up on that coffee offer from this morning?”

“Yeah sure. Where?”

I give him the address to my favorite coffee shop in the city, tell him to meet me there in an hour, and we say our goodbyes.

Then, instead of walking back towards my apartment building, I walk to the coffee shop, ignoring my cigarettes in my pocket, the smile that’s slipped onto my face, and the blue sky spreading out above my head.

 

**Troye**

“Ugh, Troye, harder!”

I ignore the voice of the small blond boy laying underneath me when I hear my phone vibrating on the nightstand. I reach my arm over and manage to grab the phone in my hand while continuing what I’m doing. When I check the caller ID and see Connor’s name, I immediately answer it.

Yes, I’m answering a phone while having sex with someone. It’s not like we’re in love or anything, he’s just some guy who decided to come into my work and get wasted in the middle of the afternoon and was up for a casual fuck. Isn’t my soulmate a little more important?

“Hello?” I say, trying not to sound weird.

The guy beneath me looks back with raised eyebrows, but I just put my finger to my lips and my hand on his lower back, then continue to drive into him.

Then I realize while I was trying to calm this strange man in my bed, I missed something Connor said. He asked if I was busy.

I glance at the back of a head covered in sandy blond hair, but say, “No, not really,” into the phone.

Connor and I continue the phone call for another minute, making a coffee date, while I shove the man’s face into my pillows so Connor doesn’t hear anything.

I hang up the phone and let it fall on the mattress next to me, then blue eyes land on mine again.

“What the fuck was that?” he asks me with a strong South African accent.

“Don’t worry about it,” I say, pausing to try to remember what the fuck this guy’s name is. “Caspar!”

“Yes?” He questions, looking at me with an extremely irritated expression.

“Nothing,” I say smoothly, then continue fucking him until he collapses underneath me with muttered curses.

I roll off of him and onto my back on the bed and let my eyes drift shut.

“Okay, babe, that was fun, but I have plans,” I tell him, not even opening my eyes.

I hear him scoff, but the weight shifts on the bed and I know he’s standing.

“Do you do this often?” He asks. “Bring home random guys from work, fuck them, then kick them out?”

I shrug, eyes still closed.

“Only when I’m horny.”

Then, a hand connects with my face and I sit up and open my eyes, realizing that Caspar just slapped me.

“I told you, at the bar, that my boyfriend just dumped me. I thought you might actually have some kind of heart and not just fuck me and run.”

“Look, babe. Love is for suckers. The sooner you learn that, the better.”

He shakes his head and heads towards the door, wiping his eyes hastily, probably so I don’t notice him crying.

“You’re a fucking dick,” he says as he leaves the room and slams the door behind him.

“Tell me some new shit,” I mumble to myself as I shove a handful of little blue pills in my mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what I just wrote. This story has already gone another direction than I anticipated, but maybe it's good? I don't know, tell me what you think, loves!


	3. Swirling Colors, Flashing Lights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs for this chapter:  
> Coffee Shop Soundtrack-All Time Low  
> BITE-Troye Sivan

**Connor**

I’m getting coffee with Troye. Like an actual real coffee date.

Okay, so neither of us ever actually said it was a date but I asked him to get coffee and we _are_ supposed to be soulmates, so I feel like the date thing is assumed?

Either way, I’m sitting in my favorite coffee house at a table for two in the corner, right leg crossed over left and jiggling in the air. I’m unable to stay still. Every time I put my hand on my knee to try to stop it from shaking, it just shakes with my hand on it.

I guess I’m nervous. I shouldn’t be, though. I’ve been on tons of dates with tons of guys. Even a few girls before I was willing to accept that I’m gay. Troye is just another guy.

Except he isn’t. I know he isn’t. And as much as I try to tell myself he is, I know he’s so much more. He’s the reason the painting on the wall above my head is so beautiful, a swirl of blue flowers mixed with a lighter blue sky background. I see a blue mailbox outside of the window, a girl swish past in an aqua dress, even the flecks of blue stitching in my pants that I didn’t realize was there before this morning.

My world is brighter because of Troye. And as much as I don’t want to fall in love, it’s hard to fight when I look into crystal blue eyes.

Every goddamn thing I’ve seen all day is blue.

Finally, Troye walks through the door and distracts me from my thoughts. I notice he changed his clothes since I ran into him on the sidewalk. He’s wearing a light blue sweater now.

He smiles at me when our eyes meet and walks over, taking the seat across from me.

“Hello,” he says lightly, another smile lighting up his face.

I stare at his eyes again.

“Hi,” I say quietly, looking down at my latte.

“How was work?”

“Good. Good.”

We both fall silent and he looks at me with a smirk, like he’s trying not to laugh at my awkwardness.

“I’m gonna go grab a coffee,” he says lightly, a smile playing at his lips as he stands. “Think you’ll be okay alone for a minute?”

I roll my eyes at him and nod, biting my bottom lip. I don’t trust myself to speak right now. I’m obviously not sure how to function around Troye currently.

He chuckles at me and turns, walking towards the counter. I watch him walk away, my eyes raking down the back of his body.

If I had to end up with a soulmate, at least the universe was gracious enough to grant me a hot one.

He’s skinny, almost too skinny, with long legs and a long torso to match. And I won’t deny that my eyes grazed over his ass too and I subconsciously licked along my bottom lip while I examined the curve of it. I’ve never really gone for lanky guys before, but Troye just made it work somehow. He held himself with this amazing confidence that I couldn’t quite grasp and walked so surefooted, like he owned everywhere his feet hit.

I can’t take my eyes off of him as he orders his coffee and idly glances around the coffee shop, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the counter while waiting for his order. He stretches his neck, cocking his head to one side then to the other, and when my eyes see the pale, smooth skin of his neck exposed, I get an overwhelming urge to kiss and bite and suck at it until it’s bruised.

Fuck, Troye is getting in my head.

I pull out a cigarette from the pack tucked into my pocket and almost put it in my mouth before I remember I’m inside. No smoking indoors. So I tap the cigarette against my leg and bite down on my lip, trying not to look over at Troye again.

It doesn’t take long before he’s in front of me again, taking his seat and setting a steaming cup on the table in front of him. He smiles at me and I slip the cigarette back into my pocket next to the pack and return his smile.

“So, why’d you pick this place?” He asks, taking a sip from his cup.

I shrug. “I like coffee and this place has the best. I can be a bit of a coffee snob.”

Troye shakes his head and sets the cup down again. I lift an eyebrow at him and shoot him a questioning look.

“Well, what do you think?”

“I’ve had better.”

I look at him with both eyebrows up now and a deep frown set on my lips, not sure whether to speak or not.

He smirks. Then quickly bursts out laughing.

“Fuck, you are a snob. You would’ve thought I just told you I’d killed your mother or something.”

I lean back in my seat and roll my eyes at him, still not speaking.

“Relax, Con. It’s good coffee. God, are you always this wound up?”

“I don’t think I’m wound up. Just…particular about what I like.”

Troye laughs again and takes another sip.

“You’re wound up, sweetheart.”

I flinch at the nickname and start picking at the fabric of my pants.

Okay, so Troye’s hot. He has a great body, a nice ass, skin that I want to put my mouth all over, and the most hypnotizing eyes I’ve ever seen. But he’s also kind of an ass.

Fuck the universe.

Troye seems to notice that I’m not happy, because he reaches over and puts his finger under my chin and gently lifts up my face so I’m looking at him again. His voice is gentler when he speaks again.

“Look, I was just messing with you. Let’s just talk. Get to know each other.”

I sigh and nod. He is my soulmate, might as well give him another shot.

“So, what do you do?” He asks, leaning back in his seat and crossing his legs casually.

“Um, well I just started a new job today. I was doing office work, answering phones and shit like that. But now I’m doing graphic design for an online magazine.”

Troye’s interest seems to pique at that and he leans towards me with his elbows on the table and his head in his hands.

“That’s really cool, actually. I’ve always thought graphic design is awesome.”

I smile slightly at that and feel myself relax a bit.

“What about you?”

He shrugs and leans back again, suddenly seeming a bit closed off.

“This and that,” he says breezily.

“This and that?” I raise my eyebrows again. “Is that a job description? Come on, it’s not a big deal. Just wondering.”

He sighs and rolls his eyes.

“Fine. If you really must know…I’m a dancer.”

I raise an eyebrow again.

“A dancer? Like Broadway shit?”

He laughs and shakes his head.

“No Connor. I’m not one of those stupid kids who comes to New York with Broadway dreams. More like…exotic dancing.”

I swear my mouth drops open. I don’t mean for it to. It just kind of happens.

“You’re a stripper?”

Troye laughs again.

“Something like that. At a gay club. It’s not a big deal, and I keep my clothes on. Granted, I don’t wear much initially, but…”

He shrugs and I can’t help but feel amazed at how nonchalant he is about the whole thing.

“I just moved here. I needed money. I went into the club yesterday and was just going to try to get a job as a bartender, but the owner liked my face. Then he found out I could move my hips and hired me. It’s fun. I get to drink and have a whole room staring at me.”

I purse my lips, not sure of how to respond.

So my soulmate is sort of an asshole and a dancer at a gay club. The universe is really fucking with me now.

Troye rolls his eyes, obviously seeing that I wasn’t exactly happy with the information. He takes another drink from his coffee and stands up, placing his hands down on the table in front of me. When he lifts them, I notice he left a little card behind.

“Look, just…come by tonight. You never know. You might like it. Besides, I feel like you could use a few drinks. Maybe it would help you chill out a bit.”

I pick up the card and read it. The middle of the card says “Phoenix” in fucking glittery letters and under that is an address and phone number.

Troye continues looking down at me for another minute, then raises his eyebrows and smirks.

“I need to get you to relax somehow.” He pauses and runs the tip of his tongue lightly over his bottom lip, and I swear he flicks his eyes over my entire body before his eyes lock with mine again. His next sentence is almost so quiet that I miss it. “How am I ever gonna get in you when you’re this fucking tight?”

Then, I swear to god, he fucking _winks_ at me, and walks away from me and out of the coffee shop.

I look into my half-finished and now cold latte and I can’t help but wonder if I despise Troye or if I really fucking want him.

I think there’s a chance it might be both.

 

**Troye**

A few hours after my short coffee date with Connor and I’m back at work, standing up on a platform and rolling my hips along to pounding music. A lot of the eyes in the room are locked on me, running over my fairly toned abs, some of them looking slightly lower. Some people are biting their lip, not even trying to hide how turned on they are.

But I can’t stop glancing around the dark and crowded club, looking for sandy hair and green eyes.

I try to focus in on the music and keep moving my body, but my brain won’t stop drifting back to Connor.

He’s wound tight. Stuck on details and seems to want everything a certain way. He smokes way too much and always fucking smells like it. He’s stuck up and self-righteous. But he has the brightest fucking smile I’ve ever seen. And perfect, pink lips that I want to suck on until they’re red. Hair that I want to see my fingers tangled in while his lips are sucking me off. And those fucking green eyes.

The DJ changes the song and one of the other dancers taps on my wrist, signaling my turn for a break. I climb off the platform and saunter over to the bar, taking a seat and ordering a beer from the bartender.

That’s when I see him. He walks in through the front door, a frown on his perfect lips and his brow furrowed, beautiful sea green eyes sweeping the dark room.

Then he sees me.

He doesn’t smile, but his face does relax and he starts making his way over to me. He stops when he’s in front of me, his pants brushing against my bare legs. His eyes do a sweep over my body, which is covered by nothing more than a tight pair of black short shorts.

“You weren’t kidding when you said you don’t wear much,” he says, eyes quickly flicking back down to my abs, then to my face again.

I smirk.

“No one seems to mind it.”

Then, finally, he smiles. It’s only a small one, but it’s there, causing wrinkles to form around his eyes.

“Well, I don’t mind either,” he replies, biting his bottom lip and raising his eyebrows.

I laugh and shake my head at his pitiful attempt to be seductive (even though it worked) and jabbed my thumb towards the bar tender.

“You want a drink?”

He shakes his head and glances around the club again.

“Okay… then what are you doing here?”

He shrugs now, and shoves his hands into his pockets, eyes looking down at the floor.

We stay silent for a minute, my eyes on his face and his on the floor, until he looks back up at me.

“Okay, I guess I’ll have a drink.”

I smile and turn to face the bar again.

“What do you want?”

I feel movement behind me and then all of a sudden, Connor’s breath is hitting my neck and his voice is in my ear, sounding impossibly low.

“You pick, Troye boy.”

I bite my lip and try to resist shivering, but I feel goosebumps covering my body anyway.

I order Connor a beer too and he sits on the bar stool next to me.

We sit in silence, drinking, for a few excruciatingly long minutes. He finishes his drink and orders another, then downs that fairly quickly.

I look at him and raise an eyebrow.

“You’re packing those away.”

He shrugs. “Smoking isn’t my only vice. You seem to have misjudged me, Troye boy.”

I smirk and stand up, then down the last sip of my beer.

“Okay, so let’s see how much.” I put my hand out for him and take a step closer, leaning in towards his ear so my mouth almost brushes against it. “Do you want a lap dance? I’ll even let you have it for free.”

I pull back, leaving my hand extended. He doesn’t say anything or answer in any way, but he does run his eyes over my torso again and places his hand in mine.

I smile and pull him from the bar stool, then lead him over to a black leather couch near the corner of the room.

Once we reach it, I put both of my hands on Connor’s shoulders and move him in front of me so his back is facing the couch, then I push him down on it and straddle him quickly.

He just stares at me, following my every move with his eyes, his mouth open in a tiny ‘o’ shape.

Then, I start rolling my hips on him to beat of the music, hands still firmly holding his shoulders, my blue eyes locked with his green. I grind against him, hip bones jutting against his, feeling myself getting hard.

I had only given a couple lap dances since I started working here and I didn’t enjoy them. Then again, they were for older, slightly creepy men. No one that compared to Connor. Now I was just enjoying how much I was turning him on. I keep my eyes on him while I rock my hips, my ass grazing over his dick, and see his pupils getting larger, almost swallowing up the green until his eyes look almost entirely black.

I move my hips hard into his, almost pounding against them, and smirk as he leans his head back and lets out a little moan.

Okay, so I’m high. And probably a little drunk, considering that beer I just had wasn’t my first of the night. But right now, I want nothing more than to rip off Connor’s clothes and fuck him into a mattress. So, I lean my head closer to him and bring my lips to his ear again.

“Wanna get out of here?” I whisper.

He nods almost too enthusiastically, so I stand and extend my hand for him again. He takes it and I pull him into a standing position, then start heading towards the exit. Connor pulls on my hand though and brings me to a stop.

“Aren’t you working?” He yells to be heard over the pounding beat.

“I’m off in a half hour anyway. They won’t miss me.”

I continue walking, still pulling Connor after me, but he stops me again.

“What?” I ask, trying to hide the annoyance in my tone.

But he doesn’t say anything. He just takes steps closer to me until there’s only about an inch of airspace between us, grabs my hips roughly in his hands, and presses his lips against mine.

The kiss is soft at first, but then he nips at my bottom lip with his teeth and I wrap my arms around his waist, pulling his body harshly against me, and shove my tongue between his lips, tangling it up with his. His hands slip downwards from my hips and reach around, grabbing at my ass. He squeezes it and I let out a small groan against his mouth.

I pull my lips away from him and lean to his ear again.

“I wanna fuck you,” I say roughly, before taking his earlobe between my teeth and tugging at it lightly.

He pulls back slightly and smiles at me, pupils still completely blown out.

“Then lead the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this has taken so long to update. I've been distracted dealing with being back at school and mental illness has been being a bitch. This is a long update to make up for it though!


	4. Exposions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna be honest, I didn't think I was gonna continue this, but I wanted to write smut and Tronnor and I was planning that for the next chapter anyway so here you go! I'm into this story again, so hopefully I'll update again soon.  
> Songs:  
> Young God-Halsey  
> Too Good-Troye Sivan

**Connor**

Troye and I make our way out of the crowded and sweaty club and into the cold night air, my ears ringing as soon as the sounds of the city replace the pounding bass of the music.

We stand on the curb waiting for a cab, hands intertwined, when I notice Troye is shivering against the cool wind. I let go of his hand and reach out my arm to wrap it around his shoulders, pulling his slightly taller frame tight against my body.

“Thanks,” he mumbles against my hair. “I have other clothes in the back, but I got a bit… distracted.”

He pulls back slightly to smirk at me and I feel a smile play at the corner of my mouth as well.

Troye then wraps his arms around my waist and slips a hand under the hem of my shirt, running it lightly along the skin of my lower back and leaving behind goosebumps. My eyes drift up to Troye’s, hooded and looking at me with blown out pupils and a dark hunger lurking behind the blue. I start to lean in to connect our lips again when I see yellow out of the corner of my eyes and I step back to flag down the taxi. The driver pulls up next to the curb and Troye tumbles into the back seat, pulling me by the hand after him.

Once we’re seated, Troye gives the driver what I assume to be his address and then promptly leans into me, his hands snaking up my torso under my shirt.

I lean away from him slightly and grab his hands, holding them still on my chest.

“Hold up, Troye boy. How about you wait until we’re alone?”

Troye pulls back with a pout on his lips and removes his hands from my grasp.

“Come on, sweetheart, this is New York. I’m sure the cab driver’s seen worse than people getting a little handsy. At least I left your clothes on.”

His words come out slightly slurred and I’m wondering how much he had to drink before I showed up at the club. But my head is buzzing from the beers I knocked back and Troye’s hand is on my upper thigh, his fingers making lazy circles on the inner side and I’m still half hard from the lap dance, so I grab Troye’s face in both hands and shove our mouths together.

The kiss is rough and sloppy, with too much teeth and tongues fighting for control but it doesn’t matter because Troye taste like strawberries and beer and my hands are tangled up in his curls and his hand has moved upward from my thigh and is griping my hip bone like it’s his lifeline and all of my blood is rushing downwards with Troye’s thumb almost brushing my dick.

The kissing continues and we’re both nipping at each other’s lips until I’m sucking on his bottom lip roughly and pulling his body onto my lap until he’s straddling me again.

As soon as he settles on my thighs, he starts grinding his hips again, a bit haphazardly this time, but it’s still just as amazing. I slide my hands down his back until they rest at the top of his ass and I pull his groin into me, letting out a low moan against his mouth when I feel our hard cocks rub against each other.

We continue like this for a bit, although the seconds get lost in the movement of our bodies against each other and then I hear the cab driver clear his throat and tell us we’ve reached Troye’s place and we both trip out of the car and Troye throws him some money he still had sticking out of the top of his shorts, but that doesn’t stop him from rolling his eyes and flipping us off as he drove away, obviously pissed about how we spent the ride.

I forget about him fast though, because Troye’s lips connect with mine again at a bruising pressure. The kiss only lasts for a second though before he pulls back and grabs my hand, leading me into the building. We make our way through the lobby and into the elevator then up to the 10th floor. We manage to keep our hands off of each other through the elevator ride, just lean against the wall holding hands until it stops at the correct floor and Troye clumsily leads me out and down the hall.

He stops in front of a door and my eyes flick down to his shorts, trying to ignore the obvious line of his dick, and instead wonder where the hell he keeps a key.

We stand there looking at each other for a minute before Troye lets out a sigh.

“My key was in my other clothes…”

I just stare, swearing I feel my mouth physically fall open, until Troye holds up an index finger then jogs down the hall and out of sight.

Before I can start convincing myself that my so-called soul mate left me tipsy and stranded with blue balls in front of his apartment, Troye appears again with a key jangling in his hand.

He comes up next to me and sticks the key in the door.

“Neighbor down the hall has an extra key. I’ll get mine when I go to work tomorrow.”

Troye swings the door open and lets out a breath, almost as if he weren’t expecting it to open and pulls me inside, slamming the door shut behind me. Then he let the key drop to the floor and places his hands on my shoulders, pushing me against the door and colliding our lips together at the same time.

I start kissing him back instantly, my lips pushing on his with the same intensity. I reach out and wrap my arms around his waist, resting my hands in the small of his back and slipping my fingers under the waistband of his shorts. I run my fingers lightly along his skin and almost smile at the shivers I feel running through him at my touch.

Our lips move together for several minutes, sometimes wrapping our tongues together and other times sucking on each other’s lips, hips grinding against each other roughly at the same time.

After a bit, Troye pulls away from the kiss but leaves every other part of our bodies touching, and he kisses along my jaw and down to my neck. He starts to alternate between nipping and kissing at my skin and I can’t stop the little purring noise that falls out of my mouth at the feeling.

He moves his mouth up to my ear and whispers, “I’m gonna make you come undone for me, sweetheart.” His voice comes out low and gruff, his breath hot on my skin, and it sends shivers throughout my entire body. I’ve never exactly been one to give up any type of control, but Troye made me want to forget everything and let him do whatever he wanted.

He pulled away slowly and grabbed onto my hand, leading me behind him towards the open door to the bedroom. Once inside, he shuts the door and turns towards me again. His eyes flick over my body and land on mine with an almost predatory grin on his lips and an animalistic longing clouding up his crystal eyes. I start to take a step towards him, but his hand comes up and rests in the middle of my chest, holding me still.

“Slow down, love,” he says, his voice somehow even lower now.

He steps closer to me and places a hand along my jawline, holding my head still and my gaze locked on his.

“I like to be in charge. You okay with that?”

I bite my lip and feel myself getting even harder, straining against my jeans painfully, then nod at him.

He smiles again and wraps his arms tightly around me, then roughly starts sucking at my neck.

**Troye**

As soon as Connor nods slowly at me, everything inside me lights up and I smile at him and wrap myself around him, marking his neck with red and swollen hickies down to his collar bone. The noises he starts letting out are almost unholy and send blood rushing downwards to my already throbbing cock.

I tighten my arms around him even more and turn us around so his back is to the bed. I connect our lips again and our tongues start tangling together again, my teeth nipping at his lips off and on. I start walking him backwards while we’re kissing until his knees hit the edge of the bed and then I lay him down on the mattress and quickly straddle him, barely stopping the movement of our mouths.

Once we’re laying down, I move my hands down the hem of his shirt and push it up until he pulls back and yanks it over his head, throwing it onto the floor.

I smile as his pale chest is revealed and start to kiss down his torso, from his collar bones and across his pecks. I flick my tongue over his nipple a couple times and smile at the small moan he lets out as I do, then run my lips and tongue down the slight tone in his abs until I reach his hip bone and nip at it lightly.

Somewhere in the middle of my ministrations, Connor slips a hand onto the back of my head and starts tangling his fingers in my hair.

I hum softly against his skin as he lightly pulls at my hair, loving the feeling of his nails on my scalp. I quickly pull myself away from him and undo his pants, yanking them down to his knees. He leans forward and helps me pull them the rest of the way off and then connects our lips again.

I start grinding my hips down against him again and he moans in the back of his throat and bucks his hips up to connect with mine again. I pull out of the kiss and smirk at him, seeing his eyes almost completely black and full of wanting.

“Ready to come apart?” I whisper at him, and he nods instantly, raking his teeth across his bottom lip.

And that’s all I need. I wrap my arms around his midsection and flip his body over easily, moving him so he’s bent on his knees in front of me, ass in the air. I shift over to reach my nightstand and pull a bottle of lube and a condom out of the drawer, along with a little baggy of blue pills. I place the lube and condom on the bed next to me, then sneak out a pill and slip into my mouth quickly, dropping the bag back into the drawer.

I focus back on Connor then, pulling his boxers down to his knees and grabbing at his now bare ass with my hands. I start to rub my palms over his skin, then rake my nails lightly across it, smiling at the red lines I leave behind and hear him let out moans as I do.

I stand up and yank my shorts off, then kneel down behind Connor again, grabbing the lube from the bed beside me. I quickly squeeze some into my hand and rub it across my first two fingers, then scoot in closer to Connor.

I rub across his ass again with my clean hand, gently spreading him open, and rub one lubed up finger over his entrance. I see a shiver run through his body and move my hand up his back, then rub gently up and down his spine as I slide a finger in.

The tight ring of muscles tightens around it as I slowly start to stretch him out. I move slowly until his pushing back against my knuckles and then I slip another finger in. I spend a few more minutes working him open and scissoring my fingers inside him, then add in a third. I bite my lip and start stroking myself absentmindedly at the noises he makes while I finger him. Then my fingers brush up against his prostate and his soft moans turn to needy whines that make my dick twitch.

I lean my body over his, pressing my chest to his back, and put my lips next to his ear.

“Do you want me inside you?”

He pushes himself back onto my fingers and moans.

“Yes please,” he says, barely audible and needy-sounding.

A buzz shoots through my body and I bite roughly at his skin where his neck meets his back. Then I sit back and quickly rip open the condom with my teeth, pulling my fingers out of him as I do. He lets out a small whine as I leave him and I smile while I roll the condom onto my length. I pour a little more lube onto my hand and work it along my dick quickly, before getting settled behind Connor again. I line myself up and lean over him again, pressing my hand into the base of his spine. I grab the base of my dick and push inside Connor slowly, leaning my body further over his as I did.

I pause when I bottomed out to let us both adjust, but it only lasts a second before I hear Connor say “I’m okay, just move,” through clenched teeth.

I smile and start fucking him slowly, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in again.

“Fuck,” Connor breathes out.

I flatten my body along his again and wrap an arm around his waist, sprawling my hand across his stomach as I start moving in and out of him faster. I press my mouth against his neck and bite down softly, eliciting a low moan from the green eyed boy.

I start fucking him even more quickly, edged on by the increasingly filthy moans coming from Connor

“God, you’re so fucking tight, sweetheart,” I whisper against his neck, every bit of my body buzzing from the combination of him and the drugs. “Feels so good.”

He doesn’t reply, just lets his head fall forward into the pillow as I slam against him again.

The world soon fades into the slap of skin on skin and the sweat connecting our bodies together and the mumbles of curses and groans coming from Connor’s pretty little mouth. Somewhere in the midst of it, my hand slips up from his stomach and wraps around his neck, squeezing slightly. He throws his head back and moans louder, shifting a hand to grab at his cock. I grab his hand quickly and pin it to the bed.

“Just wait a minute, baby, and I’ll take care of you,” I purr against his ear.

I push in and out of him a couple more times, increasing speed even more, before taking him in my hand. I start to jerk him off, increasing the pace until it’s even with my thrusts.

Connor’s moans get even louder and he starts fucking himself back onto my cock then forward into my hand.

I growl in the back of my throat as he starts grinding back onto me and put my mouth back to his ear.

“Are you gonna come for me, love?”

He moans and moves a little faster, his legs starting to shake underneath him. I increase the speed of my hand around him, squeezing lightly every few strokes, and nibble at his ear.

“Come on, sweetheart, come for me. You can do it.”

Soon after my words leave my mouth, Connor lets loose with a cry and comes all over my hand and the sheets under us. I continue to fuck him through his orgasm and mine comes shortly after his.

Once we’ve both started to come down, we both collapse flat on the bed and I gently pull out of him, tie off the condom, and throw it in the garbage can.

I stand up and go to the bathroom, then return with a wet rag and clean up Connor.

He turns onto his side and reaches out for his jeans, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. My nose instantly wrinkles at the sight of them.

Connor notices and sighs.

“I can smoke outside if you want.”

I almost say yes, but his eyes are still blown out and there’s little pink bruises littering his neck from my mouth and his lips are swollen and bright red and I realize I don’t want him to leave my bed. So I shake my head and move so I’m leaning against the headboard next to him.

He smiles at me and sticks one in his mouth, flicking his lighter until it catches, then takes a slow drag.

We don’t say anything, just sit next to each other, our hands twisting together lightly and our fingers occasionally running across the other’s skin.

I never had anyone I wanted to keep around after sex. I usually kick them out as soon as I come. But something about Connor is keeping me tethered to him. I just want to stare into his green eyes and run my fingers along the stray freckles on his chest and bury my nose in his neck to breathe in his scent.

Suddenly, the smell of stale tobacco and Old Spice isn’t annoying, but comforting, and I’m terrified because I’m realizing that I want that smell filling my nose every minute of every day.

But instead, I just bite my lip and study the side of Connor’s face as his cheeks hollow out around his cigarette and watch his hand as it locks around the tube and pulls it away from his mouth, then hold myself back from kissing him when he flicks his tongue along his bottom lip.

I’m officially fucked.


	5. Author's note

So it's literally been a year since I've updated this story but I just saw it on my profile and decided to say something about this. Considering what happened with Troye and Connor and the whole Tronnor situation (them likely being together for a while then breaking up), I just don't feel comfortable with writing this story anymore. Thanks for anyone who read this though and for nice comments!

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this part is short, just mainly wanted to introduce the story. Hopefully this is okay, it's the first time I've ever written Tronnor. Let me know what you think, loves!


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